Process of Elimination
by variousandsundry
Summary: But then, there’s not an appropriate quote for having the county set you up with a woman let alone the woman of your dreams that you ignore while awake. For the GeekFiction community Ficathon on Livejournal
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Process of Elimination

**Rating:** PG-13 (overly cautious)

**Pairings:** Sara/Grissom

**Spoilers:** Set between the end of S4 and beginning of S5, so no direct references to cases in S5, but any character development (i.e. Nesting Dolls) is fair game for innuendo.

**Requested**: For the GeekFiction Fic-a-thon:

Any rating GSR, possibly CWR, humor

Three things I would love to see in my fic:

1. Sara actually laughing (tittering, giggle, belly laugh, you got it)

2. Happy ending (I like to think it is)

3. Pre-Vegas flashbacks (check)

Three things I do NOT want in my fic:

1. Sofia (Annoying chick with blond hair and ambiguous accent? Not here.)

2. Grissom with anyone but Sara (There's other members on the night shift?)

3. Character deaths (Here they are, kings of the world, immortals…umm)

**Disclaimer:** Clearly these characters aren't mine, otherwise they would pronounce "Nevada" correctly.

**Summary:** "As they each went to their separate rooms, she had never been so aware of distance as that night when only two doors and an act of bravery kept them apart."

Ecklie looked like he was constipated. Which meant that he was irritated about something but wasn't allowed to express his ire. Or maybe the man just needed more fiber. Either way, Grissom reflected, it did not bode well that Ecklie's constipated face was making a beeline for him.

"Gil." Ecklie nodded curtly, gesturing towards Grissom's office. "A moment, please."

Grissom's concern went up a notch – Ecklie was being courteous? Had someone died? Or been hurt? His heart succumbed to a moment of arrhythmia before his brain managed to re-exert control. One of his team would have called him if something had gone wrong. So he inclined his head and tapped his fingers on his clipboard but otherwise restrained his curiosity as he led Ecklie into his office.

His office always managed to act like a second skin, soothing over the hurts of the job and wrapping him in science and truth. His trepidations eased as he slid into his chair, the clipboard becoming the latest layer in the archeological dig that was his desk. Ecklie cleared his throat and regarded the atriums and books, his hands lightly clasped behind his back.

_Constipation would account for the way he walks_, Grissom mused. Be that as it may, Ecklie's stalling wasn't telling Grissom anything other than whatever brought Ecklie here, it didn't involve the well being of any of his CSIs.

"Is there something I can do for you Conrad, or are you just here for the view?" Grissom opened his arms to encompass the office and himself, smirking slightly. When Ecklie merely turned and sat down, Grissom began to wonder if the problem wasn't with Ecklie himself. _Could he be sick?_, came the sudden thought. Close on its heels followed, _Does he want to confide in me?_

Grissom squirmed in his seat at the thought of Ecklie coming to talk to him. _Doesn't the state health plan cover counselors for all staff?_ Just as Grissom was about to start running down a list of diseases Ecklie might have, he was saved by a moue of distaste that crossed Ecklie's face before he opened his mouth to speak.

"It would appear that our Governor has chosen to recognize our lab for its achievements. Being second only to the FBI is no small thing after all. Not –" Ecklie waited a beat, "that we couldn't stand some improvement. I'd like to think that my role here as both a shift supervisor and administrator has helped the lab achieve this standing…."

Grissom held in a derisive snort. Barely. He must've made some noise because Ecklie raised an eyebrow and said "Bless you" before continuing.

"My personal opinions aside…"

_Hah!_

"…the Governor has decided that two CSIs should be in Carson City for the Fourth of July Celebrations where he intends to present a plaque honoring the lab."

Ecklie paused and his face scrunched up further, his eyes rolling before grinding out the words that set Grissom's mind spinning. "They want you and Sidle. The county will cover transportation, accommodations, and meals – provided with proper receipts and forms of course."

"Of course," Grissom murmured. "But what, no per diem?" It was a feeble joke at best, a pathetic waste of the English language at worst. _But then, there's not an appropriate quote for having the county set you up with a woman; let alone the woman of your dreams that you ignore while awake._

Ecklie apparently decided that Grissom's effort fell squarely under the waste category and didn't bother to spare any words addressing it.

"I've an itinerary for you, provided by the Governor's office. I'll leave it to you to arrange the necessary travel details and to notify CSI Sidle. I also expect that you'll arrange matters here so I won't have to come in while you're gone to straighten things out. Right?" His odorous task complete, Ecklie stood up abruptly and strode to the doorway, pausing a moment to say, "I'd get a move on Gil. You've only got a week to get everything together."

Ecklie left and Grissom sighed. A week? All the hotels would be booked up – not to mention everything that needed done at the lab and getting his and Sara's shifts covered. Despite all that, there was an undeniable quiver of excitement suffusing his body. A weekend alone with Sara – a time when he could be concerned and maybe begin to repair their tattered friendship. If it wasn't already too late.

He'd never hated words until that phrase entered his life. He had used words to get his way, he recalled snatches of conversations – "Sara I have so many unanswered whys" and "I don't know what to do about this_"_ resounding as if he had just uttered the words. _It would appear that "too" and "late" are taking revenge._ He rolled his eyes at his foolish wordplay and saw Sara coming in for her shift.

"Sara," he called out, not really expecting her to hear him. He had just begun to stand up when her head swiveled around at the sound of his voice. Offering a tentative smile, she reached the entrance to Grissom's office and leant up against the doorframe.

"What's up Grissom?"

"Come in for a minute, take a seat." He took off his glasses and nibbled on them absently, wondering what her reaction would be. He would let her response guide his plans, he resolved. She looked braced to hear the worst and he realized she thought this had to do with the drinking incident. The word "incident" was too innocuous to hold all the things he felt at receiving that phone call: anger, hurt, worry, responsibility – as her supervisor and deep within him the belief that he drove her to it – despair, resolve.

How quickly his anger had fallen away from him as he saw her hunched shoulders, her bowed head. His resolve had only lasted long enough to take her clammy hand in his, although he had not let it go until he walked her to her door. Now all he had was worry and responsibility, shouldering aside the hurt and despair as selfish. As so many of his actions had been lately. Maybe this time his resolve would last longer than clasping hands.

Sara cleared her throat gently and brushed a segment of chestnut hair away from her eyes and behind her ear. He spared a moment more to wonder at the kind of man who'd rather lose himself in thoughts of a woman rather than the reality.

"Sorry, I was just trying to coordinate this weekend."

Sara gave him a blank look before asking, "Big Fourth of July plans? Having a bar-b-que at your house?" An eyebrow rose up in mocking challenge and he was glad to see it; she'd been somber for so long.

"Actually, we have plans. That is, if you didn't already have something in mind for the weekend."

Sara's mouth dropped open and shut quickly with an audible click of her teeth. _I'm not explaining this very well._ Grissom put his glasses back on and said, "Let me try this again. The Governor of Nevada is recognizing the lab's achievements and has chosen us as the best representatives to go to Carson City this weekend. Apparently, we're receiving a plaque on the lab's behalf. So, did you?"

Sara blinked. "Did I what?"

"Have plans for this weekend?"

"Oh, no. I can go."

"Great, great. I'll get things settled for us then."


	2. Chapter 2

&&&&&&&&

Sara sat down, the cool dimness of Grissom's office soothing her eyes if not her emotions. Grissom seemed lost in his thoughts, the arm of his glasses captured between his teeth. She was always surprised by his teeth – they were smaller than she expected and a little crooked. It wasn't often that he grinned widely enough to show them and she found the instances when he did endearing.

Of course, this moment was being mitigated by the fact that she was fairly certain Grissom wanted to discuss her DUI. She half feared, half resented him for it. In the grand scheme of things, her misadventure hardly ranked the highest in the lab's fuckup pool. She certainly wasn't an alcoholic. She had miscalculated her fatigue and how much she had eaten, that's all. If not for the new law she'd have been legal.

More to the point, she had been driving on side roads at what could only be called a sedate pace. She wasn't proud, but she had been responsible. It was all a moot point now and she'd stayed sober the last two months to prove a silent point to Grissom. _I don't need the booze and it certainly doesn't control my actions._ She had thought that Grissom understood.

Then again, Grissom didn't really understand the finer points of human communication. Not in regard to the living anyway. She of all people should've known better, but it was easy enough to forget when his blue eyes were vaguely focused on her. Heaven help her when he focused all of his attention on her, she could feel heat suffusing her body just at the thought.

Even now when he was just sitting there, she wanted to take her hand and run it through his graying hair. She quirked her lips momentarily at its sporadic coloring; every once in a while he would dye it to cover the grey. Sara had the suspicion that it was Catherine prodding him to color it; Catherine was the only one with guts enough to say something and Sara didn't think Grissom would notice otherwise. Certainly it always wound up the same, the grey at his temples spreading to weave in among the rest of his still brown hair. _So sexy._ Not to mention the wave that turned to curls with any kind of humidity. Like in San Francisco….

Sara cleared her throat gently and brushed a segment of hair away from her eyes and behind her ear. She needed to stop thinking about things that had no relevance on the present; it was all very well to visit the past when in the comfort of her own home. It was another thing when she was in the position to let her mouth run away with her in more ways than it usually did around Grissom.

Her actions seemed to have focused Grissom back on the office. His eyelashes fluttered a moment before his gaze focused on her hand as she finished tucking away the strand of hair. His tongue flickered across his lips so quickly that she wondered if he even felt it, she wondered if she'd ever feel that tongue against her lips.

"Sorry, I was just trying to coordinate this weekend."

Sara was flummoxed. Was this going to be another one of his damned "make no assumptions" speeches? What was so special about this weekend anyway? _Oh, that's right – Fourth of July is this Sunday. Who is he making plans with?_ A small bundle of ire and jealousy stirred in her stomach and she said, "Big Fourth of July plans? Having a bar-b-que at your house?" Knowing full well that he rarely had anyone over to his townhouse, let alone a party. She let her eyebrow creep up in mockery of her statement. She'd show him about assumptions.

"Actually, we have plans. That is, if you didn't already have something in mind for the weekend."

_Holy mother of god, I can't ever get one over on this guy._ Her jaw dropped before she noticed and she hastily shut it again. The clicking of her teeth sent a short lance of pain through her head, which was apparently enough to induce thought processes again. Which was fortunate, because she wasn't sure how much longer she could've gone on without breathing. _Grissom…is making plans for us?_

Grissom had put his glasses back on and was talking again.

"…of Nevada is recognizing the lab's achievements and has chosen us as the best representatives to go to Carson City this weekend. Apparently, we're receiving a plaque on the lab's behalf. So, did you?"

Sara blinked and tried to remember what they were talking about. "Did I what?"

"Have plans for this weekend?" he said patiently.

_Right. That's what we were talking about. Gee, let me think, can I go spend the weekend with the man I'm in love with or can I spend the weekend scrubbing my fridge?_ "Oh, no. I can go." The words escaped her lips quickly, easily.

"Great, great. I'll get things settled for us then."

Sara nodded her head as if her supervisor booked hotel rooms for her all the time, as if she didn't want to tell him to book just one room with a king sized bed. Grissom adjusted his glasses slightly and pushed them further back onto his nose, a moment later he crinkled his nose to allow the glasses to slip a little. He was fidgeting. Gil Grissom was fidgeting. She had now seen everything.

"Okay then. I'm gonna go put my stuff away. I'll see you in the break room." She smiled and stood up, containing her giddiness. _Sara an' Grissom, sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g! _She gave a small laugh as she walked through the door and headed for the locker room. Some days there were perks to coming in early, although usually they merely involved swiping some of Greg's coffee to make a decent cup. Today was proving to be headier than the best coffee available.

Sara sat in front of her locker, trying to get some grip on reality. Because last she checked, Grissom stumbling over details of a weekend getaway was not a part of her reality. The locker room was quiet in the early moments before her co-workers came in for their shift; the previous shift had left already and the air was lightly scented with someone's perfume. Sara nudged her locker door open with her toe and wondered when the white rabbit would appear to take her down the lab halls. Maybe Grissom was the white rabbit.

Well, she'd follow his lead on this little trip of theirs; she might wind up beheaded or she might make nice with the king of hearts. She grinned and shut the locker door with a firm nudge of her foot.

&&&&&&&&


	3. Chapter 3

Grissom yawned slightly as he glanced down at his watch; as if on cue, Sara appeared in his doorway and sagged a little against the frame. He could write a paper on the nuances of her emotions as she leaned against the support of that door; framing her in a window between him and the fluorescent lights of the lab hallway. He blinked and realized that she had been talking. _This meandering really needs to stop_. He tilted his head to the side and one eyebrow rose. "Come again?" A brief flicker of concern crossed her face before she repeated herself, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Do you want to meet me at the airport in about two hours? I just want to go home and hop in the shower before heading out."

She was making sure he could see her lips moving. With a pang of his conscience, he should have realized his team would figure out about his hearing. That Sara would figure it out. Fortunately that was behind him now.

He shook his head and she opened her mouth to speak again but he interrupted her. "I don't see any reason in putting both of our cars at risk, waiting at the airport. I'll just come pick you up."

"Uhh, sure. Do you, that is, umm, do you know where I live?"

"I remember," he murmured and Sara ducked her head.

_Score one for Mr. Subtlety_, he chided himself. He glanced down at his watch and said, "Well, it's just seven now. Why don't we grab some breakfast and then go home to clean up. Our flight doesn't leave until ten, I figure we should be there around nine." He glanced at her over his glasses, "Will that give you enough time to get everything together?"

"Sure – I just have to throw a few things in a bag and I'm ready to go. I travel lightly."

He knew that already, somewhere he acknowledged that Sara Sidle had gotten to Las Vegas very quickly for a workaholic CSI in San Francisco. It was funny how the years could change people so much – ten years ago he had found Sara intelligent and attractive. Now, he was in love – or at least, by process of elimination, that's what he thought this emotion was.

&&&&&&&&

The flight was average as such short trips tend to be – it seemed as though the flight attendants had no sooner finished discussing the unlikely event of landing in a large body of water while flying over Nevada, than the "fasten seatbelts" sign came on and the were landing in Reno.

Of course, in Grissom's opinion, the flight seemed all too short given the fact that Sara fell asleep on his shoulder rather than the window. Her gentle exhalations made his skin tingle as though there was no cloth between them.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, intent on remembering everything in this moment. The weight of her body against his, the way her hair tickled his neck with its fineness, the gentle metronome of her breathing measuring out the limited time of his bliss. Remembering, he fell asleep.

"The Biggest Little City in the World" was small peanuts compared to the lights of Vegas, but it was doing its best to attain urban sprawl. The little airport actually hosted international flights – and not just those that went to Canada. Carson City was nowhere near as exciting as some of the other destinations; fortunately, the company was good. Better, in fact, than it had been for a long time.

After landing they collected their carry-on luggage and made their way through the panoply of noises in the airport down to the main floor. They passed the ever present slot machines and over priced gift stores and were faced with a large metal sculpture of a skier. It seemed out of place in the dry climate of Nevada, until he remembered that Reno butted up against the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The car rental kiosks were set against the left side of the wall, the baggage claim area to the right of them.

Grissom walked back from the car rental kiosk, juggling the keys handed to him. Sara was flipping through the pages of the itinerary with a slight frown on her face.

"Grissom," she glanced up as he neared. "There aren't any directions for getting to Carson City or the Governor's mansion."

"I've got that partly covered. The car rental attendant told me we're quite close to the freeway to Carson and," Grissom waved a map, "someone gets to be navigator."

"Hmm, let me guess who that would be."

"Now, now, Sara. I can't help it if your eyes see better than mine."

"Hah! Yah, that's been the case for a while," muttered Sara.

Grissom pretended not to hear her and gestured towards the doors. "I believe they've called a shuttle to take us to the car lot. Shall we?"

"Let's. The jangle of the slot machines is beginning to get on my nerves – and ears."

The shuttle ride was quick and quiet, and mercifully free of the boisterous family they had waited with. They pulled into the lot and totting their luggage behind them they followed the numbers on the parking spaces until they reached the one on the key chain. In its space was a silver convertible. Sara glanced over her shoulder, one raised eyebrow speaking volumes about his apparent car choice. He forestalled any verbal commentary with a raised hand.

"They didn't have the mid-sized car I reserved, so they offered me a truck or a convertible at the same rate. I figured that we drive enough in trucks so I picked the convertible."

Sara turned and eyed the car again. "Well, at least it has some trunk space." She turned and grinned at him. "We could totally cruise around Lake Tahoe in this."

Grissom heaved a mental sigh in relief at her acceptance of the car. He had been afraid she'd think he was having a mid-life crisis – a convertible with a younger woman…. He shook his head at the trite image that presented. Sara's smile faltered a bit so he hastened to say, "I think that would be a great idea. We could even catch the fireworks there."

"That'd be nice."

Grissom popped open the trunk and they both unconsciously began scanning the upholstery. Grissom was the first to laugh at their behavior and soon Sara joined in. Shaking her head, she shoved her small carry-on case into the trunk and then grabbed Grissom's. She had the trunk shut and was walking to her door before he could protest.

"Well?" She called. "Are we going to hit the road, Easy Rider?"

"That was motorcycles – this is a convertible," he grumbled as he as slid into the driver's seat. The radio flared to life and began to blast rap music as the ignition turned. Sara glanced at him as she changed the dial on the radio. "Based on the evidence, I'd say _that_ was a mid-life crisis."

"You're listening to KOZZ – Reno and Lake Tahoe's best classic rock station."

"Bonus."

They pulled onto the freeway and Sara carefully unfolded the map. "Oh-kay. It looks pretty simple – we just follow this freeway just until it stops. There will be an exit before it splits off to Lake Tahoe. Hey, did you notice the transmission date on that fax? It's from June. Ecklie sat on it for awhile."

"Huh. I didn't check the fax date actually. He probably just wanted to throw me off balance by having to do everything last minute. Maybe he thought that I'd decline it and he could go instead."

"Well, I have to admit I was surprised that you did accept."

Grissom shrugged. "It's good for the lab to receive recognition – it might mean more funding for us. Also, the CSIs deserve to know their efforts are appreciated. That someone is noticing how hard they work. It may be just a plaque – but it's proof, evidence of approval."

"You surprise me sometimes Grissom." Sara turned her attention back to the itinerary. "It takes about half an hour to get to Carson City from Reno, assuming there's no traffic."

Grissom nodded. "After we meet with the secretary we'll go check in at the B&B. The area around it is supposed to be good for easy hikes and since the place only has two rooms, we'll have it to ourselves. Well, and the owners of course."

Sara shuffled the papers in her hands. "Did you see that we're supposed to help judge the floats tomorrow? Then we receive our award and attend a lunch with the Governor."

"Do you want to go to Tahoe after the lunch? We might be able to go on the M.S. Dixie II – hear all about Tahoe Tessie."

Sara grinned. "Ah yes, and the underground river passage between Lake Tahoe and Donner Lake that she used. Oh there's the signs – we want to be in the right lane."

Once out of Reno, the remainder of the drive was much like driving in Nevada anywhere – a mixture of beiges and burnt yellows, low scrub covering the foothills. The air rushing over them was like a warm caress. It was almost like they were driving into the sunset in some movie, their troubles left in the dust of a small city with only the horizon in front of them. But the horizon shifted and soon they were descending into a valley and the buildings of Carson City began to appear. They were back to being them, back to their strained friendship and the boundaries placed by Grissom and work.

They found their way down the main drag easily enough to the Governor's mansion. A tall man with white hair, brown eyes, and a wattled chin awaited them with a woman about 5'8", with a short blond bob and bangs.

"Dr. Grissom, Ms. Sidle." Governor Guin shook their hands. "Sorry to be so rushed but I have a meeting to attend – I just wanted to personally thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to come up here. Mr. Ecklie mentioned that you might have some trouble making it here as he thought you might be attending a conference, Dr. Grissom. And I commend you on volunteering for the SPCA, Ms. Sidle. Mr. Ecklie said that you are quite good with the cats and kittens there."

Grissom saw Sara mouth "kittens?" over the Governor's shoulder, an incredulous look on her face. He was hard pressed to look the Governor in the eye and make the appropriate responses. "Well, we felt it was important to be here in recognition of your support of our lab."

"Thank you both again for coming. I have to dash off now, but Ms. Luevano will get y'all settled and coordinated for tomorrow. I'll leave you in her capable hands." The Governor shook their hands once more and strode down the hallway.

The woman left with them was wearing a simple suit that fit her well and was of a high quality; her smile reached her eyes as she extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Jan Luevano, Governor Guin's Executive Assistant and Director of Scheduling. I actually looked up your lab's solve rates and history. You two are quite the workhorses."

Sara and Grissom glanced at each other and gave wry smiles. Sara said, "It's a job that inspires dedication."

Ms. Luevano smiled and said, "Now, I notice that you're a vegetarian Ms. Sidle. The lunch after the parade is actually a bar-b-que, will you be okay with veggie burgers and tofu dogs? There will be other side dishes of course, but those will mostly be salads and vegetables anyway."

Sara shot a surprised look at Grissom and replied, "Yah, that will be fine. Thank you."

"Excellent. Now here is a map – it will get you to the parade end point where you'll be with the other judges. The stage where you will be presented with your plaque and the bar-b-que will be held at the same park. I understand that you're staying at the Deer Run Ranch Bed and Breakfast. It's a good choice, lovely surroundings and the Vhay's are good people. I've stayed there once myself. Now, if you don't have any questions for me I'll let you go. I know you're usually asleep by now."

"I can't think of anything." Sara said. "How about you Grissom?"

"I think we're set."

Ms. Luevano nodded and began walking with them towards the doors. "Well then, I'll let you folks explore Carson or go get some sleep." She smiled. "It's a pleasure to have you here."

They parted ways in the bright sunlight, the city spread out around them in a mix of new and historic buildings. The sky was a blue that made you feel the distance between earth and space, made the clouds brave sentinels in an azure sky. Sara's stomach rumbled. The sentinels carried on, unconcerned and Grissom smiled. "Want to get some lunch?"

"Let's walk, I'd like to see some of the city before tomorrow."

He nodded and they set off, strolling down the sidewalk for all the world to see them together. Grissom was content as he placed a hand on the small of Sara's back to guide her into a café with a patio open. They ordered their food and sat sipping ice tea, commenting on the people that passed by. Sara seemed agitated by something and finally said, "I can not believe Ecklie tried to tell the Governor's office that we weren't available. That's just so…."  
"Catty?" Grissom quirked an eyebrow.

"You did not just say that," said Sara, a pained expression on her face.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag now."

"I think the SPCA might have something to say about that."

"So you think some fur might fly?"

"I suppose you think you're being very punny."

Grissom opened his mouth to say something and then narrowed his eyes at her smirk. "Ohh, you just couldn't resist, could you?"

Sara threw up her hands. "Resistance is futile."

_I'm going to have to remember to send Ecklie a gift basket of bran muffins for sending us_, thought Grissom as he and Sara laughed.

&&&&&&&&


	4. Chapter 4

The bed and breakfast was picturesque and thankfully nothing that prompted any memories for Sara. Although the atmosphere certainly struck a chord with her Tamales Bay roots – built for solar power, the kindly wife who made the pottery the B&B used, the friendly husband with stories of moonshine stills in the foundation. The entire scenario was something out of one of her more schoolgirlish day dreams – her and Grissom, escaping away to some reclusive place where nobody would care if they were together. If they spent the whole trip in the bedroom.

She trailed her fingers along the book case and noted that it was already three o'clock. It was one of the funny things about traveling, even when she didn't cross time zones she always felt like she was further away in time and distance. Like it should be closer to five o'clock, like she should be out for her run or taking a bath. She yawned. Or like she should be asleep. Just because she could go without sleep for longer periods of time than most people didn't mean that she liked doing it. Of course, her pillow wouldn't smell like Grissom.

She flushed as she remembered waking up on the plane and realizing that she had fallen asleep on Grissom's shoulder. She was surprised that he hadn't said anything, in fact, he had fallen asleep with his glasses on. She had had the perfect view of his mouth where his head had dipped into his chest as he slept. She had wanted so much to reach up and his glasses off, to draw her palm down his cheek to wake him up.

She had almost done it, which was when she noticed that in her sleep she had curled up to him. Curled up to him and laid her hand over his heart. That was a little bit too much of her sub-conscious taking over and so she had unfolded herself from the cramped position in the seat and picked up the in-flight magazine.

But even now, with the scent of sage coming in through the window and the earthy scent of the pond water, she could still smell him. She would swear that his scent had wrapped itself around her olfactory senses and refused to let go. Just as he had snuck his way into her thoughts, her heart and lately, her poor graces. This trip was going a long way to change the latter, but what good it would do her heart was anyone's guess.

Grissom walked out of his room at that moment and she stopped looking at the book on Nevada wildflowers. He had changed into a pair of jeans and wore an old LVPD t-shirt and hiking boots. "Want to investigate the area?" He pulled on a baseball cap and Sara fought the urge to turn it around, he looked so adorable when he did that.

She headed to her room saying, "Sure, just let me change real quick."

She shut the door behind her, impressed by the room's warm earth tones and high ceiling. She opened her suitcase and quickly picked out some shorts and a t-shirt and decided on wearing her bathing suit at the last minute. They had a pool here and after tromping around in the heat, she knew going for a swim would feel great. She quickly changed and slathered on some sunblock before grabbing her own cap and heading back into the common room.

"All set," she grinned. Grissom looked a bit pole-axed from where he was sitting on the sofa, flipping through the same wildflower book. It took her a moment to realize that this was probably the least clothing he'd seen her in since his last trip to San Francisco six years ago. She managed not to cackle but the smirk crept across her face unhindered. She tossed the tube of sunblock at him and said, "Put some on. It's hot out." She sat down to tie her boot laces as he absently did as she asked.

He seemed to snap back to himself as he offered her a pair of small binoculars as they headed for the door. "Here, there's apparently a bird sanctuary nearby and so there's a lot of interesting bird watching."

She pulled a small bird guide out of her back jean pocket and said, "Just what I was thinking. This was in my room, I don't know about you but it's been awhile since I've had to identify birds in the air."

They smiled at each other, appreciating the ease with which their efforts coordinated. The day was gorgeous; the bushes had caterpillar tents and the underbrush rustled with lizards scurrying after chirping crickets. The whole area was vibrant and bursting with life, and Sara was childishly pleased that Grissom had to look up as many birds as she did.

At four-thirty they found themselves by the pool and Sara eagerly started for it. Though their efforts had been mild, she could still feel the thin cotton of her shirt sticking to her back. The wind ruffled surface of the pool seemed to be a seductive invitation directed at her. She set her binoculars and book down onto one of the lounge chairs. She had peeled off her t-shirt when she noticed that there weren't any towels out. Grissom was hovering on the edge of the pool area, looking for all the world like a kid peering through the toy store window.

"Hey Griss, why don't you throw your swim trunks on and bring me a towel? Then we can go to dinner." She had her shoes and socks off by this time and splashed some water in his direction with her foot. He seemed to reach some decision because he sighed and said "Sure" before heading for the house. She wiggled out of the denim shorts and slipped into the pool. The cool liquid encompassed her body and sluiced her free of the clinging sweat. She came up for air and flipped onto her back and languidly floated around the pool.

Which was how Grissom found her as he walked back – one towel around his shoulders, one draped like a shield over his arm and wearing black swim trunks. His sneakers jarred with the outfit and he shrugged as he said, "I forgot to pack flip-flops or sandals. I barely remembered to pack my swim trunks."

She nodded her understanding and got out of the pool to take the towels from him. Grissom's eyes flickered over her body, and she was pleased that he could show some interest. True, her swimsuit was modest by most standards – boy cut bottoms and a halter top that criss-crossed her back. But that modesty allowed the deep burgundy color to accentuate the constellation of freckles across her shoulders and the golden flecks in her eyes.

She took the towels from him and tossed them on the lounge chairs. "Come on Griss, the water's great." She coaxed him as if he were a skittish dog, dancing on the edge of the water – wanting to go in but afraid to commit to the action. Apparently that worked because he kicked off his sneakers and got in the pool. Dunking his head, he ran his hand through the wet curls of hair and gave a boyish grin. "This is perfect." Sara eyed his muscled legs and arms, his broad chest – and couldn't have agreed more.

Lazing in the pool, Sara noticed that they each surreptitiously glanced at one another while pretending to enjoy their surroundings. Deciding to actually look at the scenery, Sara noticed the sun lowering. Despite not wanting the moment to end, she reluctantly said, "I guess we should go get ready for dinner."

In her room, Sara luxuriated in the fact that she had Grissom as a captive audience for the whole trip. _Maybe he'll see that there's no harm in our relationship, maybe he'll see that we have the discipline to maintain a personal and professional relationship. Maybe he'll see that I looked damn hot in these jeans and tank top._ She hurried into the common room and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. The dark indigo rinse of the jeans set off the green of the tank top. _And the back scoop neckline is positively devious._

But then so was Grissom. In the mirror she saw him enter the room. His casual jeans and black button up shirt shouldn't have looked as sexy as they did, but the fabric of the shirt framed his shoulders, the folded cuffs revealed his forearms. The man was teasing her with a Victorian amount of skin showing.

The drive into Carson City was cool and they soon found themselves seated on a patio. During dinner, Sara thought to herself, _If this had been a date I would have to call it the best I've ever been on._ But they weren't, so she contented herself with enjoying his attention and conversation, his hand on the small of her back as they walked. When they returned to the B&B, they put on some Miles Davis from the cd's the Vhay's had left out.

They sat on the couch reading the forensic journals they had each brought. Feet up on the coffee table, a cup of tea on one side and Grissom on the other, she allowed herself to think for a moment that this was their life. That the reading aloud of interesting passages and the companionable silence between them was the norm; that if she wanted to, she could stretch out her legs across his lap on the couch and he would absentmindedly rub them as he read.

As they each went to their separate rooms, she had never been so aware of distance as that night when only two doors and an act of bravery kept them apart.

&&&&&&&&&


	5. Chapter 5

"You have lilac boxers." Sara's incredulous voice filled every paranoid nook of Grissom's mind. He stopped ironing and tried to come up with something to say that wouldn't drag the moment into deeper depths of embarrassment. "They were a Christmas gift from my mother…" _That wasn't it._ Sara's effort to contain her laughter couldn't withstand the image of Christmas boxers and she burst out laughing.

"Well, at least she taught you how to iron." She gestured at the largely finished khaki pants. "Although I'd switch out of that black polo shirt if I were you. It's supposed to get hot today – maybe even a record breaker."

Sara was wearing a knee length denim skirt with a Carson City Fourth of July tank top and sandals that laced around her ankles. He raised an eyebrow, she was so casually beautiful. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Actually, yes." She pulled a light blue t-shirt and flip flops from behind her back.

He grinned and said, "You should be a magician. Where'd you get this stuff?"

"Uh uhn," she waged her finger at him, "a magician never reveals her secrets."

"Hmmph."

She tossed the t-shirt at him and set the flip flops down. "I'll give you a minute to change and then we can see if my moonlighting as a retail clerk in my youth paid off." A wink and a grin and she had ducked out of the room. He held the shirt out to see it better. It was a mellower version of Sara's, with only some fireworks embroidered on the upper left corner of the shirt; "Carson City Fourth of July" wrapped around the embroidery.

He pulled off his polo shirt and laid it over the end of the ironing board. Pulling the new shirt on, he turned back to his khakis and finished the pants with a few smooth strokes. He wasn't sure how she had guessed but everything fit perfectly; the fabric of the t-shirt was much cooler than the heavier material of the polo shirt. He rapped his knuckles on her door and shortly her head popped out.

"Hey."

He smiled and nodded his head, "You were right. Even if we now scream "tourists" to anyone who looks at us."

"Ah, ah. We scream, "we support the Fourth of July fireworks". All of the money goes towards buying next year's fireworks. I figured that was something I could endorse."

Grissom acquiesced and they went to enjoy the breakfast the Vhay's had set out for them. There was enough food to feed them both twice but fortunately they both had hearty appetites to tackle everything from the fresh baked bread with homemade jam to the vegetable frittatas with brie. The coffee was something to rival Greg's cherished Blue Hawaiian, the flavor of it rolled across the tongue and the caffeine went straight to the brain.

Grissom found himself looking forward to the day, and not half dreading it as he had the night before. It had been so hard to resist Sara, her easy presence making him think of the future they might have together. That maybe quiet evening spent reading forensic journals and listening to jazz could be a part of his life. By now he should know better, should know that things never ended well. But sitting here this morning, Sara blissfully drinking down the coffee he was hard pressed to remember why it never ended well.

They found their way easily enough to the park, as many people in town were on their way there as well. The air resounded with music and laughing voices, parents sat in lawn chairs along the street as children played awaiting the parade.

The parade was fun as small town parades are – campy and full of the older siblings of the children darting from the sidelines to grab candy. The high school marching band was there, resplendent in towering caps and the mixture of pride and embarrassment that is the badge of teenagers everywhere.

A group of 4-H kids on horses performed curvettes and pranced down the street. There were floats with people in poodle skirts and ducktales and others were twirling to the calls of a two-step. Slowly the parade tapered off and soon the mounted police brought up the rear and the other two judges were offering their notes for comparison.

"I thought the 4-H kids were good," offered Sara.

"The dancers for the Bank of Nevada float were quite good." Suggested Grissom.

Ultimately they all agreed upon the Girl Scout's wilderness float and the awards were handed out. Governor Guin took the stage after the parade marshal finished.

"I hope everyone is enjoying the activities today. That was a fine parade and it was especially moving to me to see so many young people active this year. Now the bar-b-que's all heated up and I'd like to thank the volunteer firefighters for putting it on again this year. As you know, lunch is by donation with all proceeds going to the firehall. Now I have here with me Dr. Gil Grissom and Ms. Sara Sidle – two of Las Vegas' finest crime scene investigators." Governor Guin waited a moment for the scattered applause to stop.

"On behalf of the state of Nevada, I'd like to thank them for their efforts in solving crimes and for making the Las Vegas Crime Lab second in the country. I think that's something to be proud of. Dr. Grissom, Ms. Sidle, please accept this plaque as a token of our regard for the lives you've put to rest. Thank you and keep up the good work."

Grissom shook the Governor's hand and took the plaque saying, "Thank you Mr. Governor. It is an honor to be recognized for our work. We only hope that fewer people will need our help."

Governor Guin shook Sara's hand and then said, "Now remember folks, the police department has a fingerprint station set up. You can bring your child by and they'll be happy to put the finger prints on file. Happy Fourth of July everyone – have fun and be safe!" Governor Guin turned from the microphone and gestured for Grissom and Sara to precede him offstage.

They made their way around the various activity and vendor booths to where people were beginning to line up around the numerous grills. Grissom eyed the crowd and noticed that it was predominantly female. Once he saw the cooks, he had idea why – the volunteer firefighters were serving alright. Shirtless with "kiss the cook" aprons. He caught Sara eyeing them and almost groaned. _How am I supposed to compare to…_ he watched one cook flex his arm _…to that. Could he be more obvious?_

Grissom was picking a plastic utensil to best gouge his eyes out with when Sara leaned over and with a slight frown on her face said, "Do you think that's really sanitary? I mean, it's hot – they sweat." She drew her head back, eyebrows furrowed and in that instant he knew that he loved her.

He smirked slightly. "I think we're safe, between the heat and the utensils I doubt you have anything to worry about. Besides, it's for a good cause. I'd think that you would appreciate that – what with your own volunteering background."

"We're not starting with that again are we? Because there are children around, and I'd hate to emotionally scar them."

Grissom snorted as he accepted a chicken breast from one of the firemen and continued down to the condiments. "I'll defer the puns until later, to save the gentle sensibilities of the children."

"Uh huh." Sara heaped toppings on her tofu dog.

They followed Governor Guin to one of the tables set up under the shade of some trees. They sat down and Grissom noted that most of the people at the table seemed to be the Governor's staff. Governor Guin took a seat next to a perfectly coifed woman wearing a pressed polo shirt tucked into her khaki shorts.

"Dr. Grissom, Ms. Sidle this is my wife, Dema. And you remember Ms. Luevano."

They all murmured their polite hellos and began to eat.

"So what are your plans for the rest of the day," asked Dema.

Grissom glanced at Sara and said, "Well, we thought we might go drive around Lake Tahoe. Maybe go on one of the M.S. Dixie tours."

"Today will be splendid driving weather, the view coming over the summit is just lovely. Actually, if you don't mind deferring your tour of the lake, I believe that we have two complementary tickets for the Dixie's fireworks cruise. I've heard that the fireworks are mirrored on the water if it's calm enough."

"That sounds great, if you're not going to be using the tickets yourselves." Replied Sara, surprising Grissom.

"Oh no, we'll be here. I'll just call up the reservation office to let them know that you'll be picking up our tickets."

"Thank you, that's very generous," said Grissom, trying to quell romantic thoughts of a night cruise around Lake Tahoe.

The conversation turned to more mundane affairs and he paid enough attention to be able to respond to questions but was otherwise lost in his thoughts. Once they were done with their food they excused themselves from the table and thanked the Governor and his wife once more.

As they got into the car, Sara turned to him with a slight flush across her cheeks.

"I made an executive decision back at the B&B," she said.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I packed the trunk."

His heart dropped to the bottom of his seat, right next to his ass which was how he was feeling.

"…for a picnic. We got all that snack-type food and that bottle of wine when we checked in, I thought it would be fun for a light dinner or something. If we see a nice patch of beach on the drive around Tahoe, I mean. I also grabbed our swimsuits and some towels. Just in case."

Grissom had an inkling of how he made his team feel with some of his comments. He thought he should have whiplash from whipping his head around from one extreme point to another.

"I just…wanted to tell you. Since I grabbed your clothing without really saying anything…."

"No, that sounds great. We can just head to Lake Tahoe now. Is everything going to stay cool?"

"The Vhay's gave me a cooler and some ice. As well as some plates and cups."

"I better get to driving and hold up my end of the deal."

Sara grinned and slid on her sunglasses.

&&&&&&&&

"Oh no way!" Sara turned up the volume on the radio. The sound of Paul Simon burgeoned around them.

"_The Mississippi Delta was shining like a National guitar I am following the river down the highway through the cradle of the civil war…"_

"I loved this album. I was fifteen when it came out and I remember that I still felt bad for Garfunkel. I mean, Paul Simon did just fine after they split up but Art Garfunkel just kind of disappeared."

_"She comes back to tell me she's gone, as if I didn't know that, as if I didn't know my own bed. As if I'd never notice the way she brushed her hair from her forehead. And she said losing love is like a window in your heart – everybody sees you're blown apart,  
everybody sees the wind blow…."_

Sara's voice was low but sweet. He always enjoyed walking into trace or the drying room and hearing her sing as she worked. His mood soured as he realized he was thirty when this album had come out. He had just been recruited to the Las Vegas lab when she was fifteen. _There's such a breadth of time between us. What do I have to build a bridge over that?_

Sara's foot was tapping to the music of an Eagles song as she looked over the map. "I think we should head towards Tahoe City, from the looks of it there are more accessible beaches in that direction."

"You're the navigator." They had left the desert flora behind and as they drove along the winding road they finally reached the summit. Various species of evergreens covered the mountains, interspersed with the burnt remains of a wildfire. Before and below them lay Tahoe Lake, the blue of the water contesting the sky. There was still snow on the peaks of the mountains around it although flowers were in bloom around the road. Where the water turned to a blue-green color was a little island with ruins that looked more in context with England or Wales.

As they drove downward, they saw sails on the surface of the lake and little powerboats skipping along the waves. The houses along the shore would be more aptly named mansions, although once they got into the towns there were more mundane domiciles.

They began to see beaches alongside the road and finally picked one that wasn't packed with people. There were some children hunting crawdads with buckets and adults watching from further up the beach. They got out of the car and soon had the trunk emptied, easily accommodating each other. He had the cooler and cutlery, she had the blanket and their swimsuits.

She spread out the blanket in a somewhat shaded patch next to some large boulders, dropped there by glaciers long ago. He weighted the corners of the blanket with their shoes and in no time they were enjoying their impromptu picnic. _I don't know how we do it, but we just know what the other person needs. Almost before I even know I need it. Maybe that's why she knew I needed her before I did._

Theirs was a relationship of omissions – what neither acknowledged was bound in smoldering glances and hovering hands. There were some things that could only by freed and remembered with a high proof of alcohol. Which made sense that he was thinking about it now – now that they were back at Tahoe, a beach blanket and cooler in tow.

Of course, the circumstances were different – he wasn't on vacation and hadn't been talked into staying at Sara's friend's cabin perched on the Donner summit. She had been the one with the obscure knowledge – grinning as she told tales of cannibalism and walls of snow.

_"Should I worry when I go to sleep tonight?" his cheekier self had tossed out. _

_"Oh, I don't think so. It is summer after all. But if I need a midnight snack – I know where you sleep."_

Sara took a bite out of her cracker and cheese and Grissom shivered, imagining those teeth nibbling other things. Brushing crumbs off her shirt, she tossed the forensics journal he had been reading last night to him and lay down on her stomach. Flipping open her own journal, her legs crossed in the air behind her she sipped on the wine while flipping pages.

The sun warmed Grissom's skin and he leaned against a rock and put on his glasses. It was a fortunate coincidence that this allowed him to read and watch the slow arcs of Sara's legs in the air. The silence hummed.

&&&&&&&

The M.S. Dixie chugged slowly along the surface of Lake Tahoe, passing through the small wavelettes of dark water. The stars shone in the summer sky and Grissom took a deep breath, savoring the background for Sara's beauty. Savoring the moment and comparing it against others in his past. _The memories are getting faded, worn around the edges – and here she is, offering me pin-pricks of light in a cloudless sky. Offering me the lines of her cheeks, the ridges of her collarbones. All the details of life that have faded from my memories._

The pops of the initial fireworks sounded and the few children on the cruise exclaimed and stared at the sky. Sara was leaning back against the railings, casually watching him out of the corner of her eyes. He could feel her looks as though they were a physical presence. He walked the few steps to join her at the railing, the first firework whistling into the sky. Sparkles of gold drifted down and lit her face.

"Do you remember when we watched the fireworks from the bridge near your friend's cabin? The sky has the same kind of clarity."

"Do you find that clarity is something you lack Grissom?"

"Only in some things."

Sara turned and looked out across the water. "You keep looking to the past Grissom. Is that really enough to satisfy you? Because it's just enough to keep me wanting more." She ducked her head to her chest, but he could still see her blinking back tears.

Sara's voice expressed her frustration, but it was her eyes that made Grissom breathless. The intensity of her look, the way he felt as though she peered into the core of him and saw the faults and didn't care. The depth of emotion he saw there, that was everything he'd ever feared of finding. It was all there. And just as he had feared, he didn't have the will to reject what she was offering a second time. Still he couldn't quite toss all his caution into the cool breeze of the evening.

He turned and watched the sparkling drift of fireworks, preceded by explosions and followed by the "oohs" and "ahhs" of young children on the boat. "Fireworks are all in the timing – sometimes a big explosion is disastrous. And sometimes the delay on the starter is too long or the powder gets wet and it doesn't ignite." Grissom paused for a moment and Sara murmured into the silence, "Are you saying that my powder is wet Grissom?"

"I'm just wondering about the timing."

"Some of the best fireworks have a slow start Grissom. Sometimes you have to let things build, like a crescendo. It starts out softly but before you know it symbols are crashing in your ears and washing over you is the most beautiful melody, something you could only half hear before."

"So you don't think I'm a dud."

"No, Grissom." She brushed his cheek softly. "Never a dud."

&&&&&&&

Grissom watched as his breath stirred the hairs at the nape of Sara's neck, wondered at his hands holding her close to him. "Sara?" he queried softly.

"Mmm?" She turned in his arms and nestled her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

"Why me?"

"I dunno, I guess I decided it wouldn't kill me to have some fun…to get a life." She half smiled at him. "I hear some people have them."

Grissom ruminated, "You know, I have hobbies. Maybe I'll try this life thing with you." Sara responded with a grin – a vibrant, dancing-eyed, face splitting grin that lit up her face. She was the dawn – a soft luminescence encompassing his starry night. Neither minded being engulfed.

"_For thus merely touching you is enough, is best,_

_And thus touching you would I silently sleep and be carried eternally."_


End file.
